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-H-:} iFKE •:• Ij^ JllEJV'F •> W *• 



•f* 




THE LAMENT 



OF 



The Mormon Wife 



A POEM 



BY 



// 



MARIETTA HOLLEY. 



IL^q^^TH^AT'^S. 



AMERICAN PUBLISHING CO. 
Hartford, Conn. 

1880. 




<7h 



COPYTiTGHT BY 

MARIETTA HOLLEY. 

1880. 
(All rights reserved.) 






THE LAMENT OF THE MOKMON WIFE. 




ADED and thin is the hair he so lovingly pressed 
Fi'oni my girlish brow, that twilight in happy May ; 
" Sweetheart," he said, " your hair outshines the light in the 
west ; " 
Golden hair and golden sunset, — both are gray. 



^ 







THE LA.AIENT OF THE MORMON WIFE. 

'Twas then lie set this ring on my hand, as he mnrmured 
low, 
Words that come back to me sweet and sad as my mother's 
funeral hymn : 
" Dear hand, it shall guide me forevermore as now ! " 

It is coarse with time and toil ; it has lost its hold on him. 

I think the sunsets now, are not so sweet and bright : 

The sun dies now in the west, and his smile is sickly and 
worn, 
Looking back o'er a waste of sand ; it was such a different 
light 
That hand in hand we watched 'neath the blossoming thorn. 

Oh that Northern village ! how sheltered and calm it lay 
At the foot of the green old mountain, nestling low. 

Home of my wedded love ; as fair and far away 

It seems, as a city in Heaven to a toiling wretch below. 

How happy we were ! and I know that I was dear 
To him as his soul. I saw the shadow rise — 

Small at first as my hand, but growing day by day. 

As the smooth-faced saint beguiled him Avith honeyed lies. 



THE LAMENT OF THE MORMON WIFE. 

But I was to 1)6 Ills o^vn true wife to tlie end ; 

" Never but one/' — in this lie was firm as a rock. 
Of course he should have his way ; oh ! a noble friend 

Was he ; too wise to frighten her with an untimely shock. 




Would I follow him? Yes, in a frail raft o'er the sea; 

Or a savage's hut — or a Bedouin's roving tent ; 
What mattered it ? he was so dear, so dear to me. 

That my heart, my life, would go with him where'ere he 
went. 



THE LAMENT OF THE MOEIMON WIFE. 



But tlie years I spent while tlie shadow day by day 
Hung black above my head like a threatening doom ; 

The years I strove to thrust it with 
my weak hands away, 
And marked it still descending, 
descending over my home. 

And at last it fell ! The shadow that 
long had frowned o'er me. 
It fell ; and I think my heart was 
benumbed with the blow ; 
Or perhaps 'twas the look of a dove 
in her eyes ; or maybe 
I had no room in my heart for hate, 
but only for woe. 




;t ./ 



'll 



For I could not hate her, so sweet 
was her angel face ; 
She was only an innocent child, 
and he won her love ; 
And I knew too well — too well, what it was to place 
His smile above all things, beloW, above. 









^r^.1 W/V 




THE LAMENT OF THE MORMON WIFE. 

But like me, she liad her day ; I saw her dove-like eyes 

Turn into the look of a hunted doe at bay ; 
When a haughty beauty with her dark, l)old gaze. 

Won his fickle heart from the English lass away. 

And she holds him well ; I fancy no " dream " will come, 

No " holy revelation " he fears to wrong, 
Bidding him take a fourth wife to his home ; 

She has a will that, if not saintly, is strong. 

I am glad the pretty English flower is at rest 

In a balmier land than lies 'neatli her own blue skies. 

For never a storm will vex her in the vast 
And sheltered valleys of God's own Paradise. 

To die of a Ijroken heart, — that were too absurd ! 

' Twas a low and stnl>born fever of which she died ; 
Against the holy faith she never spoke a word ; 

And her husband and his new wife watched faithfully by 
her side. 



THE LAMENT OF THE MORMOlSr WIFE. 




Tl^yii^r^ ^\\" '^^^''-^ ^«' .<^^i'^ 



Though they said that at last she drew her hands away 
Even from him, and clasped them so wan and thin ; 

And the old nurse said she bent to hear her pray : 
" Oh God, for Christ's sake, forgive this Christless sin. 

What sent these thoughts to me in my lonely attic room 
Where no step but mine falls through the night and day ? 

Perhaps 'twas because I heard through the twilight gloom, 
His voice in the garden below with his boys at play. 

Their mother leaned from the jjorch to answer their merry 

call, 

With a smile that made her proud face womanly and soft; 

And they are two handsome lads ;-when I go to the servants' 

hall 

For my daily dole of bread and meat, I have met them oft. 



THE LAJIENT OF THE MORMON WIFE. 



^^ 







As their fatlier chased them with laughter ad own the 
winding walk, " 

Pelting them with red roses so gay this golden even', 
Did a murmur reacli him through their childish talk, 

Of our baby's voice that is singing now in Heaven ? 



THE LAMENT OF THE MORMON WIFE. 

Had tliat cliild lived, I should not have been so lone ; 

Sitting here in my vacant room he would come to me, 
A great tall lad, with his eyes of honest brown ; 

Cheering my desolate heart with his sympathy. 



Though sometimes, I am glad he is safe within 
The jasper gates that shut us so far apart ; 

AVith his father's tender ways he will never ^vin 
Some woman's love, only to break her heart. 

But it is this wife, with her beauty and subtle art ; 

Hike to think it is she who has poisoned his mind 
Against me, for he had an affectionate heart 

Before he became a saint ; he was very gentle and kind. 



If I thouo;lit he would chano;e, would come to me at last 

And say : " Oh love, forgive me that my weak heart roved;" 

Forgive ! Oh, in my happy tears I would wash out the past. 

And love him better than ever man was loved. 
4 



THE LAMENT OF THE MORMON WIFE. 




But it will not be, I shall dwell liere alone till I die ; 

And some day my soul will fly from its prison bars 
Over the dreary desert ; I suppose that Heaven is as nigh ; 

But I wonder if I can be happy without him above the 
stars. 



THE LAMENT OF THE MORMON WIFE. 

For I think this parting is final; he will not be mine again, 
For they say there is no giving in marriage there above ; 
And should he and his three wives meet on the Heavenly 
plain, 
Effaced by his fresher affections would be his old — time 
love. 

If God would only let us change our natures at will ; 

If I had no heart I could better act my part ; 
Deserted, unloved wife, yet loving him, loving him still ! 

I think that a modern saint is better without a heart. 




When I die — what other hope do I have — he may come at 
last ; 

Perhaps he may even lay his hand on my brow 
When 'tis cold, and say : '' It is long since past. 

But she was dear to me in the long ago." 



THE LAMENT OF THE MOEMON WIFE. 

It seems as if I should know if lie stood by my side ; 

Should feel ou my face, did they fall, his remorseful tears 
That his voice, if loving, — no matter how long since I died- 

Would waken my heart from the silent sleep of years. 

But loveless, lonely dreamer, who will not be comforted ; 

Of ^\ hat avail is it to murmur, to moan, or to cry ; 
The jjeacefulest rest, I think, is the sleep of the dead. 

When the day is past, and the darkness is over the sky. 







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